


ARISE, FAIR SUN

by lumenera



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Sao Paulo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26723260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenera/pseuds/lumenera
Summary: "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Shouyou says in lieu of a greeting."Yeah, about that..." Atsumu scratches the back of his neck. "How close is yer training center to the airport?""Tsumu..." Now, it's Shouyou's turn to trail off. "What did you do? Do I need to fly back to Japan?""What? No." Atsumu isn't sure if he should be offended or not that that's what Shouyou's mind instantly jumped to. He recovers quickly, though, reminded of his purpose by accidentally kicking his suitcase. Again. He pulls a face and pushes it away, out of foot range with his free hand. "I'm here. At the airport."
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 46
Kudos: 310
Collections: AtsuHina Exchange





	ARISE, FAIR SUN

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wisteria_prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisteria_prince/gifts).



> _Prompt 3: Imagine these two but in Brazil for vacation. Atsumu struggles to learn Portuguese._ Hopefully this fits what you had in mind, I took some liberties when I wrote it but I sincerely hope you enjoy! <3

_But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?_ _  
__It is the east, and ~~Juliet~~ Hinata is the sun. _

\- Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2

Miya Atsumu knows nothing about Brazil. Well, what he does know is more or less considered nothing. He knows there’s a city called Sao Paulo, home to the nationally renowned ASAS São Paulo team in the Brazilian Superleague. That’s it, really, because most of all, he knows Shouyou’s there. Right now, without him.

Everything he knows about Brazil is from Shouyou. Everything _about_ Brazil screams, Shouyou, Shouyou, Shouyou. It's all about him, really. It always has been, from the 12 hour time difference to the 457 days apart, to the 18,770 kilometers of distance, each felt by every thump of Atsumu’s heart. The distance isn’t what breaks his resolve, though. It’s waking up in the morning, his hand brushing the empty side of his bed, larger than needed for only one person to sleep in at night. It’s turning his head only to see blankets and an unruffled pillow. It’s seeing his few belongings left, scattered around the apartment as if only to pluck on Atsumu’s heartstrings.

So, Atsumu caves. He boots up his laptop, it all coming down to 136,570 yen, for the day and a couple of hours by plane: enough money for him to grimace when the total comes up. He books the plane ticket, nevertheless, and makes a mental note to look at his bank account.

For a moment, his mouse hovers over the cancel flight button. _What if it’s the wrong thing to do?_ He looks at his phone. Imagines Osamu’s voice in his head.

_Stop pinin’, ya lover boy. If ya wanna go see him, go see him. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see yer face too._

_It’s yer face too,_ Atsumu bites back at Imaginary Osamu. Imaginary Osamu stays silent, not deeming his reply worthy of a response. _Screw ya_. _Go die in a hole._

He moves his mouse away and exits the tab.

***

One stop in Dubai and 29 hours later, the plane touches down on Brazilian soil. Atsumu gingerly removes himself from his tiny economy seat, feeling empty-headed—from the lack of sleep or adrenaline, he isn’t sure. Maybe both, considering he spent the flight plagued by a crying baby exchanging screams with a toddler three seats over, a couple rows back from where he sat.

He collects his backpack from the overhead, trailing behind the crowd. Atsumu has no idea where to go, and he eyes the walls for any clues they could give him, which amount to none. The line meanders on through customs. Atusmu’s mind blanks. He’d forgotten that such a place existed. He makes it through by the mercy of secondary school English, and that earns him a nod and a stamp in his passport. 

When he finally makes it to the main floor of the airport, immediately, he's lost. All the signs are a mix between Portuguese and English, neither of which he understands well, if at all. _Osamu was always the better twin at languages,_ he bemoans. Screw the surprise visit, if he can’t make it out of this maze, he’s inhibited to slow, eternal suffering, death by airport. Atsumu takes in another wide glance around the airport lounge, finding nothing except another normal day at the Governador André Franco Montoro International Airport.

He pulls out his phone and downloads the Google Translate app, swiping his fingers until a camera opens up and the words begin changing in front of him as he slowly turns in yet another circle. FOOD COURT. TERMINAL B. BAGGAGE TAKE. Or maybe that's just the app's translation. By the time he gets to the carousel, his suitcase is the only one left, going round and round in circles like a lost puppy. At that point, he decides it's time to call Shouyou, because he can't get much farther without someone who actually lives here, and there's no one else he can call, no friends that can help sneak him by. It goes to voicemail.

“Hello, you’ve reached Hinata Shouyou! Sorry, I’m not available right now, but if you could leave a message, I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as possible--”

Atsumu sighs, ending the call, sinking into a nearby seat. It digs into his back, and he drops his head into his hands.

“ _Shouyou…_ ”

His grand plan shudders to a halt, gears screeching. The sinking feeling in his chest tells him that he's possibly doomed himself for the day, or whenever Shouyou finally picks up his phone and calls him back. He puts his head in his hands and sighs again, louder this time. Waves of new passengers file in and out of the room, taking their luggage and leaving as quickly as they come, leaving him just like they found him, alone and lost.

He's stuck and he hates it.

Precisely 19 minutes and 52 seconds later, his phone goes off. Atsumu jumps out of his seat and his foot kicks his suitcase. It’s Shouyou; he jabs the answer call button and it goes through.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Shouyou says in lieu of a greeting.

"Yeah, about that..." Atsumu scratches the back of his neck. "How close is yer training center to the airport?"

"Tsumu..." Now, it's Shouyou's turn to trail off. "What did you do? Do I need to fly back to Japan?"

"What? No." Atsumu isn't sure if he should be offended or not that that's what his mind instantly jumped to. He recovers quickly, though, reminded of his purpose by accidentally kicking his suitcase. Again. He pulls a face and pushes it away, out of foot range with his free hand. "I'm here. At the airport."

The line goes silent.

"Shou-kun? Ya still there?"

"Yeah," Shouyou says after another beat. "I'm just trying to digest this information."

"...Surprise?" Atsumu offers up weakly. It's not a very good defense, but it’s all he’s got. “I’m at the baggage claim.”

"I'll be there in an hour."

“See ya.”

“Bye.”

Shouyou hangs up. Atsumu rubs the back of his neck. The plane seat really did a number on his back, he bemoans. He stretches, then settles himself down for the wait. Komori, through Suna, recommended Duolingo as a good language learning app, so Atsumu downloaded it before he left Osaka. He opens it up and starts subjecting himself to the horror.

***

Shouyou arrives in 40 minutes, dri-fit clinging to his chest like a second skin. Atsumu tries really, really, really hard not to stare, nearly dropping his phone. He fails. His phone cheerfully clatters to the floor.

Shouyou shakes his head with a laugh. "I can't believe you're here." 

"Our second anniversary is comin’ up soon." Atsumu waves his hand in a shrugging sort of motion. "I thought ya'd like to spend it together."

 _Since we didn't spend our first one together_ goes unsaid.

“I can’t believe it.” Shouyou takes him in again, then runs in for a bone-crushing hug. Atsumu brushes his hair away from his forehead and leans down to capture his lips. They kiss for eternity, and then some more. 

“Alright, let’s go home.” Shouyou beckons him outside. Atsumu doesn’t miss the way that his lips form over the words _home_. Not _my apartment_ or _my house_ , but _home_ , like it's been waiting for him all along.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He picks his phone up off the ground. The Duolingo bird gleefully informs him that his streak has started, and if he doesn’t complete his lessons every day, it’ll break into his house. Atsumu reminds himself to never take app recommendations from Komori(Or Suna, for that matter) ever again, powering off his phone.

Shouyou hails a taxi, and they hold hands in the backseat all the way home. _Home_. He mouths the word over and over until Shouyou catches him and laughs.

“Tsumu, whatcha doing?”

“Nothing,” Atsumu says quickly, embarrassed he was caught. Shouyou leans his head on Atsumu’s shoulder, and they don’t say another word.

Atsumu can't stop himself from running his thumb over Shouyou’s palm. He’s here. _Shouyou’s_ here. They’re here, together. Half an hour later, the driver stops outside a nondescript apartment building. While Atsumu hauls out his luggage from the trunk, Shouyou pays the driver.

“ _Brigado_ ,” Shouyou says with a wave, and the cab drives away. “Come on, TsumTsum, we’re on the third floor.”

“Is there an elevator?”

Shouyou shakes his head. “You’re an athlete, you should be more excited about taking the stairs.”

Atsumu frowns. “I just got off a 29-hour flight. I’m _exhausted_.”

“Oh, three flights won’t kill ya.” Shouyou mimics his accent, rolling his eyes. Atsumu gives him a nostalgic smile. _He missed this, so, so much._ “Race you to the top?”

Atsumu switches his grip on his suitcase, prepared to say no. One look at Shouyou says otherwise, so he swallows his original words. “Alright. Yer on.”

Of course, Shouyou wins, just on the basis of Atsumu having to carry his suitcase up three flights of stairs and not knowing which apartment was his.

Shouyou fishes the key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. “Here we are. If I’d known you were coming, I would have prepared something for you,” he says apologetically.

Atsumu waves him off. “No, s’alright.”

Shouyou's apartment is exactly how he imagines it, from the little suncatcher in the window to the scallions growing in the kitchen, green shoots angling towards the afternoon sun. It's quiet and cozy, with its beige walls and thrown open curtains. Taped up on the walls are a slew of letters, most of them signed by Hinata Natsu, others, postcards from places Atsumu's never heard off. He yawns as the heavy warmth comes to rest on his shoulders. Shouyou's face creases into concern, putting a hand on his back.

“You really must be tired. It’s what, 6 AM in Japan?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. He yawns again.

Shouyou gently pries his fingers off his suitcase and pushes him towards the bedroom. “Go to sleep. We can catch up in the morning.”

Exhausted, Atsumu takes off his shirt and flops himself face-first onto the bed. He’s out before he knows it.

***

" _Bom dia, minha paixão,_ " says Shouyou, propping himself upon his arm. Light from the window filters in. He switches back to Japanese. "How are we feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," Atsumu replies; except, that truck is jet lag. He closes his eyes again, burrows tighter under the blanket that appeared overnight. "What time is it?"

“7 AM?” Shouyou ventures.

Atsumu moans. “Let me go back to sleep.”

Sunlight assaults his eyes, making it well and clear that under no circumstances will he be allowed to return to sleep. “You woke up by yourself.”

He cracks one eye open. In this light, Shouyou looks like the rising sun, blinding and far too good for Atsumu. He briefly wonders if he’s dreaming. Not just his spur-of-the-moment decision to come to São Paulo, but all of it. Maybe he’ll wake up and find himself back in his childhood bunk, Osamu below him, Osamu, still hiding under the covers because he doesn’t want to get up for another 5 AM practice in the dead of winter. Or he’ll wake up with the knowledge that Hinata Shouyou isn’t real.

Shouyou reaches out and flicks him in the forehead.

It’s real.

Atsumu’s face breaks out into a grin, feeling his eyes water.

“Oh, so now we’re happy to be awake,” Shouyou teases. “I’ve got the day off. Wanna see the city?”

“Of course,” Atsumu replies. But what he really means is, _I want to see you_.

“I’ll make us breakfast.” Shouyou rolls out of bed, and to Atsumu’s surprise, he’s fully dressed. “I woke up earlier,” he adds. “Did my morning routine already.”

Once Shouyou leaves, Atsumu puts on a shirt, stretching out his limbs. His elbows crack, then his knees. He cracks both of his wrists and opens the door.

In the bathroom, Atsumu splashes water onto his face. The sink is a bit shorter than he would have liked, so he hunches his shoulders to make himself fit in the mirror. His back still aches from his plane ride. He unzips his toiletries bag and grimaces.

In his haste while packing, he forgot his hair gel. He checks again. Still no clear, triangular bottle. He sighs. He can go a day without hair gel. Or two weeks, because that’s how long he’ll be here for and he doesn’t feel like spending any more unnecessary money. Especially if that money is Shouyou’s. He wets his hands under the sink and runs them through his hair before brushing his teeth, pausing occasionally to rub his eyes.

Shouyou’s got the radio on in the kitchen, and he’s singing along overtop the sound of what Atsumu is pretty sure is a blender. He gives himself another look in the mirror and runs his hands through his hair again. Peering forward, he gives his hair a curious glance, brushing back the tips. His roots need a touch-up.

“You done?” Shouyou calls.

“Coming,” Atsumu calls back, cupping his hands over his mouth to be heard through the bathroom door. He leaves his toiletries perched precariously on the sink as he heads to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. Shouyou sets a bowl of purple puree in front of him, sprinkled with granola. He sets another one in front of himself and takes a seat.

“What is it?” Atsumu prods at it with his spoon. He’s sure it’s probably good, but the purple color is very offsetting to him. Especially, because when they were kids, Osamu loved mixing up random food concoctions that made no sense and tricking him to eat it for kicks. He still shudders at the memory of his avocado-spam smoothie, dyed blue to disguise its contents.

“Açaí na tigela,” Shouyou says through mouthfuls. “It’s delicious.”

Atsumu brings a spoonful to his mouth and swallows. It’s cool and tart, but the sweetness of the fruit balances it out, the granola bringing some crunch.

Shouyou reads his expression. “I told you it’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s wonderful.”

Shouyou beams. “So, which parts of the city do you want to see today?”

“The beaches?” Atsumu thinks back to all those nights spent talking about beach volleyball, the sparkle in Shouyou's eyes every time he mentioned the beach.

“Sao Paulo is landlocked,” Shouyou says apologetically. “We’re not in Rio, Tsumu, it’ll take us a couple hours to get to the beach, if not more.”

“We can just walk around, then.”

Shouyou puts both of their bowls in the sink. “Can you get your passport? Wait, before that--” He snaps his fingers-- “I have a couple of people I want you to meet. They live a few streets down.”

***

“Tia Alandra, Tia Izabel, Miya Atsumu.” Shouyou gestures back and forth between the three of them. “Tsumu, this is Tia Alandra and Tia Izabel. They took very good care of me when I just moved back.”

Atsumu tries for a non-awkward smile, unsure how to react. The ladies beam at him, and one--Tia Izabel, he thinks--wraps him in a hug. They’re both quite old, with laughter lines around their eyes, hair gone completely grey, but the energy they have is enough to rival Bokuto’s. Tia Alandra holds him at shoulder length and gives him a look-over before nodding once and releasing him. He’s pretty sure he’s just passed some sort of test. He ducks his head and steps back.

The three of them chatter on with grand hand gestures and laughter that could probably be heard in California. Atsumu's head spins as words pool out of Shouyou's mouth, all in rapid-fire Portuguese. He belatedly realizes that his second-hand one-inch paperback dictionary isn’t not going to cut it in the slightest, and neither is his one-day-old relationship with Duolingo. Is he hallucinating? His brain inhales in the words, but they're just words without meaning. He stands there, dumbfounded. He should have paid more attention in class, but what to do when your lover speaks another language and it's incredibly hot isn't exactly covered in any class he’s ever taken. It takes all he has to just smile and nod.

Of course, he has no idea what he’s doing, but he’s not going to say that. He doesn’t need to look more like a fool in front of Shouyou, who is trilingual, compared to Atsumu and his mediocre Japanese(Despite it being his first, and sadly, only language). His secondary school English isn’t going to win him any awards, much less be counted as a language he actually speaks.

“ _Meu carinho,_ ” Shouyou says, pointing at Atsumu. The old ladies titter some more, with more elaborate hand gestures, and Shouyou’s face goes bright red. He waves them off with nervous laughter, and Atsumu is sure his eyes are going to fall out of his skull by how fast he’s flicking them back and forth, trying to grasp the situation to any extent he can.

He taps Shouyou on the arm. “What did they say?”

“Oh, nothing.” Shouyou laughs again, more settled this time, and promptly switches back to Portuguese, shutting Atsumu out of the conversation. He fingers his phone in his back pocket, wondering if he can be discreet about using Google translate, but then the ladies wave goodbye, and Atsumu can breathe again.

“They can be a handful.” Shouyou rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness to it. “I forgot to visit them once last week and they showed up to my door with an entire empadão _and_ a pot of fish stew. They thought I'd died or something like that; I had to explain to them that I just went for an early practice that day, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” Atsumu arches an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they also kept trying to set me up with their granddaughters. Now they can’t, because they’ve met you.”

“Ulterior motives, Shou-kun.”

“What, I can’t show off my boyfriend to the world?” Shouyou gives him an innocent smile, but both of them know that he knows exactly what he’s doing. The last of Atsumu’s brain cells promptly fizzle out. A tragedy, from surviving Duolingo, only to die in this way. He stares at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. Shouyou laces his fingers in between Atsumu's like he's been doing it all his life.

“Te amo.”

"What does that mean?"Atsumu gives him a curious glance.

Shouyou smiles, brighter than the sun.

“I love you.”

***

(The words ring in his head, days, weeks, months after.

_Te amo. I love you._

It's the first time either of them has said it. It won't be the last.)

***

Atsumu stands there, dumbstruck. _He loves me he loves me he loves me--_

“Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Shouyou tugs on his hand again, seemingly unaffected by the words he just said. "Are you just gonna stand here until the sun sets? There's so much more to see. You can even come visit our training center. It's a lot better than the Jackal's."

He lets Shouyou lead them to the metro. There's so much to see, and Atsumu cannot wait. _He loves me he loves me--_

 _I love you too, Hinata Shouyou_. How is he supposed to express that? Words sit in his throat, waiting to be spoken into existence.

"The metrô kinda reminds me of home--" Atsumu jolts up, and the horrifying thought that he zoned out dawns on him. "--but nothing will ever beat shinkansen, right?"

"Of course," Atsumu mumbles.

"Uh huh," Shouyou says cheerfully, still guiding him through the early morning rush of pedestrians. "We are gonna see the Banespão."

"The what?"

"It's a skyscraper with some of the best views of the city." Shouyou flashes him that self-assured smile of his. "Don't worry, you'll love it. Then, we can pick a place for lunch."

"Is there somewhere Japanese?"

"You're in luck--I know an excellent ramen place we can go to."

Atsumu squeezes his fingers a bit tighter and lets himself be whisked away to busy sidewalks and public transportation, to a world he knows nothing about.

***

Roughly 150 metres in the air, Sao Paulo is still noisy and brimming with life.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Shouyou shouts to be heard over the wind. He's busy pointing out all the places far below them, of the grandiose skyline rising up to meet them. The entire city, transformed, but breathtaking all the same.

"We should go to the Mercado Municipal Paulistano next," he says as he edges closer.

Atsumu simply nods, still distracted by how the light hits Shouyou's face, making his eyes glow like he's some entity not from this world. In a way, he is. He's far different from everything else from Atsumu's world in the sense that he would never belong there, never come from there. But he's here, and Atsumu knows that in his heart, he's home again. Maybe, if he was normal, he'd be too busy falling in love with the city, but there's only one thought in his head.

_You’re better than any city in the world, Hinata Shouyou._

So, he says it. And he says it again and again. And he says it once more, where it can't be interpreted any other way than how he means it, earnest and truthful and real.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation/Location Notes:  
> \- The HQ manga refers to Hinata's team as ASAS São Paulo, but the internet says SESI(Serviço Social da Indústria-SP)  
> \- Brigado: Thank you  
> \- Bom dia, minha paixão: Good morning, my love  
> \- Açaí na tigela: Açaí berry puree mixed with sugar, banana and granola, traditionally eaten as a breakfast or snack.  
> \- Meu carinho: Pet name/Term of endearment  
> \- Empadão: It's like a Brazilian chicken pot pie  
> \- Banespão: Another name for the [Altino Arantes Building](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Altino_Arantes_Building) and third tallest building in São Paulo.  
> \- [Mercado Municipal](https://www.mercadomunicipalsp.com/): Large public market with a variety of shops
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://lumenera.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/lumenera_)!!!


End file.
